The Jiangcheng University team consisted of seven people in total: Zhao Weilai, Weng Yang, Deng Ziwen, Ding Feifan, Liu Guilan, Tan Moli, and Fu Qinqin.
Each of them carried a personalized clay doll amulet crafted by the 【Clay Sculptor】 Liu Guilan.
The characteristic of the clay doll was that the more it resembled the owner of the pendant, the higher the probability it would absorb damage for them.
So Zhao Weilai recognized at a single glance that this pendant belonged to Deng Ziwen.
Blood rushed to her head in an instant, and her ears began to ring violently.
“What did you do to the owner of this necklace?!”
She whipped around, her voice trembling with rage and fear as she pointed at the tall man and demanded, “Where did you get the necklace on your arm?! What did you do to him?! That belongs to my boyfriend!”
Everyone was startled by her sudden outburst.
Weng Yang was the quickest to react.
Almost instantly, she drew the handgun from her waist, followed by a crisp click as she chambered a round.
The muzzle was aimed steadily at the four men. “Don't move.”
She had also realized what this meant—if the amulet was in the hands of an outsider, the best-case scenario was that Deng Ziwen had been robbed. As for the worst-case scenario...
No wonder Zhao Weilai was having such a breakdown.
The moment the gun was pulled, the entire carriage became dead silent.
“Oh my God, how do they have a gun?”
“Shh!”
“Was their companion killed? How awful!”
The players who had followed them let out a succession of gasps, squeezing backward into a tight huddle.
Margaret clutched her chest, repeatedly crossing herself.
The priest's face darkened as well. He stared at the four men, his thoughts unreadable.
The four men were also startled.
They had never expected these two gentle-looking Asian women to be carrying a gun!
“Damn it, who are you?!”
Sweat dripped from the tall man's forehead down to his chin, but he still put up a brave front, straining his neck as he yelled, “Y-You dare to murder British citizens on British soil?! That's murder! The police will lock you up!”
Weng Yang lowered her muzzle slightly, aiming at his knee. “Take one more step, and I'll shoot.”
She spoke in Chinese, but the bearded man refused to believe she would do it.
Carrying a firearm was a severe crime in the UK.
Besides, in this bizarre, death-trap of an Instance, where did she even get a gun? Superpowers?!
He took two steps forward, trying to prove his bravery. “I don't believe you'd dare to—”
Bang!
The gunshot rang out without warning, exploding in the cramped, enclosed carriage.
“Get down!”
“Don't shoot!”
“Oh my God!”
The new players all threw themselves to the floor, watching the bearded man clutch his shoulder, rolling on the ground in agony.
Blood flowed continuously through his fingers, staining the floor.
The entire carriage fell into an eerie silence.
Most of the new players huddled in a ball with their heads in their hands, like quails dazed by a torrential downpour, not daring to lift their eyes.
...
Weng Yang's hand was actually trembling too.
This was the first time she had shot a regular player in an Instance.
She had seen corpses and encountered monsters in Instances.
But pulling the trigger on a living, breathing human was a first.
Yet, she did not show even a hint of her inner panic on her face.
Zhao Weilai's eyes were bloodshot. She reached out and gently nudged Weng Yang's arm. “Weng Yang, let me.”
She turned her gaze back to the remaining three men, speaking with venom: “You bastards—I'm asking one last time. Where is my boyfriend, the owner of this necklace? What the hell did you miserable scum do to him?!”
The tall man stared at the blood on the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily.
The lanky man beside him swallowed hard. It took him a long moment to force a semblance of composure, his voice sounding hollow and airy: “W-We found this! We just picked it up off the carriage floor! How were we supposed to know it belonged to your friend... We didn't steal it...”
Before he could finish, he suddenly froze.
The man's neck began to stretch at a bizarre, unnatural speed.
First, it elongated upward inch by inch, the skin stretching thinner and more translucent.
His Adam's apple was distorted, stuck in the middle of his elongated, spindly neck.
Then, without any warning, it exploded.
Bang!!
A dull, heavy thud echoed, accompanied by a wet, sticky splattering sound.
His brain matter burst outward.
Everyone in the carriage stared blankly at this profoundly bizarre scene, the blood in their veins turning to ice.
It was that same bizarre way of dying again!
“Tom! Damn it! Tom! Tom's head exploded!!”
The bearded man kneeling nearby had been sprayed directly, the warm, sticky fluid covering his face. “Aaaaaah!”
He froze for two seconds before letting out an inhuman shriek, scrambling backward on all fours.
The wound on his shoulder tore open further, leaving a long trail of blood smeared across the floor.
“What happened?”
“What rule did he break?!”
Weng Yang and Zhao Weilai were also stunned.
This was not how they had expected things to play out.
The two women saw the same undisguised horror in each other's eyes.
This man had only spoken a single sentence, and his head had immediately burst like a flower.
The remaining two men collapsed into utter hysteria, wailing over the corpse.
The youngest lad burst into tears, his face smeared with tears and snot. He pointed a trembling finger at Weng Yang and Zhao Weilai, his voice shaking violently: “Oh God! Witches! Damn it, damn it! They're witches! You killed Tom with black magic! Oh God, burn them! Burn these two evil witches! Punish them!”
He screamed, hysterically trying to incite the crowd.
But the players crouching on the floor all kept their heads down, pretending to be dead.
What a joke.
One side had a gun, and the other side possessed some "black magic" that could make a person's head explode.
Anyone who stepped forward would just be asking for death!
Their lives belonged to themselves. There was no need to throw them away for a bunch of muggers.
With no one responding, the young man's crying became even more panicked.
He slumped onto the floor, the viola slipping from his hands and clattering to the ground.
Zhao Weilai ignored the man's crazed rambling, pressing urgently and furiously, “I'm asking for the absolute last time. Where is the owner of this necklace?”
“I... I...”
The tall man looked at the gruesome corpse on the floor, his gaze wavering. If he told the truth, these two crazy women would definitely not let him off. But if he didn't... the fate of the man from just now was right before his eyes.
Thinking of this, he squeezed out a few tears, putting on a pitiful and sincere facade: “Your friend, h-he was a very nice Asian man... very kind, and he even shared his biscuits with us... When that invisible ghost came last night, h-he was killed... Before he died, he gave us these things so we could survive... Really, I swear, everything I'm saying is true...”
Halfway through his words, his neck began to stretch as well.
Just like the lanky man before him, his neck elongated at a rate visible to the naked eye.
The man's eyes bulged to their absolute limit, his pupils filled with sheer terror. He clawed frantically at his own neck, screaming for help: “I'll tell the truth! I'll tell the truth right now!”
He begged for mercy madly, his voice turning high-pitched and bizarre as his neck stretched, sounding like a strangled duck: “We robbed him! We stole his things! And his ticket! We beat him up, and while that invisible ghost was heading to the fourth carriage, we... we threw him into the fourth carriage! I swear! Everything I'm saying now is true! Don't kill me! Please don't kill me—”
He couldn't finish his sentence.
Bang.
Another dull thud.
Sticky and heavy.
A fresh brain bomb blossomed on the floor like a red-and-white firework.
The carriage fell into a dead, absolute silence.
...
Rate on N.U.
